


Returns (Part 3)

by DarthAstris



Series: Returns [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Ain't nobody got time for a wall of tags, If you've been here for this long you know the drill:, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Just assume everything is terrible, M/M, MakeHuxSuffer2k18, Medical Procedures, Physical Therapy, Psychological Torture, Public Humiliation, Rape, Rape Recovery, Recovery, Returns-verse, Suicide, Torture, War Crimes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-22 03:32:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13755405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthAstris/pseuds/DarthAstris
Summary: Hux has begun the life-long journey to recovery, but how the things he's suffered will affect him, and those around him, could manifest in surprising ways.  The very foundation of his being will be put to the test, through both public and private trials.  Will he still be the same after all this? Will his relationship to Kylo Ren and the First Order?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Returns (Part 3) has officially resumed in June, with semi-regular, monthly updates! (I'm in grad school now, on top of work, so things might get a little slow around here from now on. Sorry! It's still coming, though! :D)
> 
> As always, comments and critiques are welcome! :D You can get in touch with me via Twitter as well, @DarthAstris. (Currently looking for any kyluxers willing to share knowledge of legal systems, particularly (military) court proceedings and lingo, for research purposes! Please help! XD)

Paralyzed by indecision.

 

That wasn’t a feeling Kylo Ren had a lot of experience with.  But, as he stood in the aisles of the Hanna City Market Plaza, overwhelmed by the bright lights and cacophonous sounds of other shoppers, the multitude of choices astounded him.  So much had changed in the last 15 years.

 

He was used to the quiet, orderly crowds of First Order warships, but not… this.

 

He pulled his hood up.  It helped to tunnel his focus, though he then felt he might have blocked too much of his vision.  _What if I miss something?_ He stared hard at the racks and shelves of clothing in front of him and chewed the inside of his bottom lip, deep in thought.

 

Hux needed so much more than the few articles of clothing he’d scrounged up and brought back from "home" the last time he’d been out.  He needed clothes for relaxing, for PT, for taking short walks outside his hospital room, and for the upcoming trial.  All of them would have to be easy to remove, or easily alterable, so that his lines and dressings could be accessed without too much effort of movement on Hux’s part.  Kylo would have preferred to make the clothes himself, as he’d always done, but he didn’t have time for that.  Hux would be taken out of the Bacta suit today, so he stared at the colorful parade of styles and patterns surrounding him and started digging.

 

 _Would Hux even like this?_ Kylo sifted through shirts of different weight and texture.   _This one is soft, but maybe a bit too big. These fasteners might be too difficult for him to manipulate right now, but he’d look so good in this deep green._   At first, he dismissed the thought as selfish and inappropriate.  _It doesn’t matter what I like… Though, he does need a nice tunic for the trial._   He knew that Hux already faced insurmountable odds in challenging the public’s perception of him, and that it was also a matter of dignity for him to feel confident in his presentation when he stood before them.  He was already feeling uncomfortable and weak, and the public display of his injuries would make him even more self-conscious.  Hux took great pride in his carefully groomed appearance.

 

But… he’d never seen Hux wear anything but his neatly pressed, rigid uniform when in public.

 

The only other articles of clothing he’d ever worn in Kylo’s presence were a silken robe and his training bodysuit.  He did have one civilian, formal tunic and capelet for the rare off-duty occasion, but most times he preferred his dress uniform to that.  Even with its sharp lines and subdued colors, Hux had considered the tuxedo too flashy for most venues.

 

Kylo had no idea what he might look like in something meant for comfort, or what his preferences would be.

 

He was holding up a velvety, dark red shirt, trying to gauge the size by the memory of his hands around Hux’s slender waist, when a blur of motion in his peripheral vision caught his eye.

 

“Excuse me,” he called to a nearby salesbeing who passed by with her head down.  “I need help finding something for my husband.”

 

The blue-skinned Pantoran girl flushed a deep purple as she looked up to meet his eyes.  She gave out a little gasp of surprise and stared for a moment, forgetting her manners.  “He’s your h— uh, I mean, of course. Sure,” her smile faltered before finding its place, “What can I help you with?” 

 

“He needs some shirts and pants, but he’s—” Kylo swallowed, “—lost a lot of weight recently.  I’m not sure what… what size he wears.”

 

“Well, that’s ok. Do you have his ID? If he’s in the system we can pull up a Holo and you can see exactly what it would look like on him.”  She started tapping numbers into her datapad.

 

“No, I—uh, I don’t have that information on me.”

 

“If you tell me his name, homeworld, and species, I can just look him up.  It will only take a few minutes.”

 

She seemed eager.  Too eager.  Kylo’s frown of confusion deepened to one of suspicion.  He glanced around the area they were in and saw that they were mostly alone.  At least, everyone else was too wrapped up in their own conversations to pay any attention to him.  “Human, Arkanis, Armitage Hux,” he said, his voice low but not so quiet that it could be mistaken for timidity.  Part of him wanted to see how she’d react to the news, since she clearly knew who he was.

 

Her face twitched and finally gave up any pretense of friendliness. “I-I’m not sure if I— I should… I should speak to my manager.”

 

Kylo allowed a razor’s edge of anger to color his tone, “What? You expect him to turn up to trial naked? In a hospital gown? What? He doesn’t deserve to be clothed, for frack’s sake?”

 

She shrank back, cowering from his intensity, and looked around frantically for anyone who might have overheard and could come to her rescue.

 

Kylo waved his hand in a way that looked, to anyone observing, as though he were pointing to something and clamped down on his anger enough to growl, “You will assist me.”

 

Her exuberant smile returned.  “You’re right, of course.  I’d be happy to assist you, sir.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Kylo’s speeder bike guttered to a stop in the lot nearest the emergency entrance of the Hanna City Veterans’ Hospital.  He shut down the engines and tapped the code to lock the ignition, marveling that it still ran as well as it did.  (Or, really, that it had even been there at all, locked away in his mother’s garage after all these years.)  He pulled his hood up before gathering his shopping bags from the side compartments, but it was too late; camdroids and reporters were already rushing toward him, shouting an overlapping frenzy of questions.

 

“Master Solo! Is it true that you and General Hux are in a relationship?”

 

“What is the nature of your relationship to General Hux?”

 

"What were you out buying, and for whom?"

 

“We have sources that say he’s your husband. Care to elaborate on that?”

 

“Master Solo, you’ve been thought dead for the past six years; were you on a secret, deep-cover mission to infiltrate the First Order?  If so, how has that affected you?”

 

“Did your mother know about any of this?”

 

“Is the Republic military, or the Resistance, somehow involved with the First Order?”

 

“Did General Organa give the order for the alleged destruction of the Jedi Academy in order to cover for your mission?”

 

 _What in the Nine Hells?_ Already nursing a headache, and irritated by the day’s events, Kylo forced himself to remain in control and grumbled, “I have no comment.”

 

He shoved past them, ignoring any further questions and preempting any further discussion with the stragglers who showed up by repeating his stance before they could speak.  “No comment.”

 

The last thing he heard, as the hospital doors slid shut behind him:

 

“As a Jedi, how did you infiltrate the First Order and avoid detection by Kylo Ren?”

 

Kylo’s eyes widened at that. 

 

He had never been more thankful for the concealing shadows of his hooded cloak.


	2. Chapter 2

Hux was dozing somewhat peacefully when Kylo returned; while floating in the Bacta suit the nurses didn’t have to turn him every two hours to prevent pressure sores, so he was able to get more rest.  At the sound of Kylo’s footsteps, however, Hux stirred.  The interrogation drugs his tormentors had injected him with kept him from achieving true unconsciousness, even with the constant stream of counteragents flowing through his IVs. 

Hux’s heart rate pinged on the monitor, signaling panic.  Kylo hurried to his side.

“Hey,” he murmured, as Hux tried to focus on him, “It’s just me.” Kylo smiled and reached out slowly to smooth his hair.  The orange fuzz sprouted up in spikes around the jagged cuts on his head, reminding Kylo of the persistent grass that sprung up around the scarred earth of a battlefield.

Hux flinched.

Kylo tried to not let it bother him.

“Where have you been?” Hux rasped from behind the oxygen mask, his faint words fogging the dome with a hint of accusation that covered for his neediness. 

Kylo didn't let that bother him either.  “I went to get you some clothes.  They’re gonna take you out of the Bacta suit tonight, and take out some of these lines and tubes so you can start moving around again.  The neck brace might get to go, too.  Won’t that be nice?”

Hux closed his eye.  His pained expression didn’t change, but relief, tempered with suspicion, flooded through him.  Reality remained muddied with memory.  His head felt _wrong_.  Still, he couldn’t wait to have all these invasive things removed, even if it meant being one step closer to further torture and eventual death.  With more freedom, maybe he could… _No, better not dwell on that. What if he hears…?_  

“Yes,” he mumbled, almost forgetting to answer.  The pain was slowly throbbing its way back into existence.

Hesitantly, Kylo continued, “Dr. Ek-Tal will be in later as well, to fit you for your prosthetic.”

Neither of them had spoken on the subject, though Hux had been staring at his missing leg for days now.  He’d felt useless before -- that was nothing new -- but now he felt incomplete.  Defective.  A portion of what little remained of his self-worth, forever carved away.

How could he ever recover his dignity while he was unwhole?

He felt tears begin to well up.  Ever since he’d woken up, terrified and unable to breathe on his own, he’d been unable to shut off his emotions like he used to.  Something inside him had cracked, and he worried that he’d never be able to repair it.  He’d spent a great deal of his life in the shadow of fear.  He never wanted to feel that helpless again.

Instead, he focused on the pain constricting his chest and radiating throughout his wrecked body.  Nausea threaded its way through the tapestry of his misery.  He only had a light broth on his stomach, which grumbled at the thought, but he felt saliva flooding his mouth in preparation for the bile.

From seemingly far away, Kylo’s voice resonated.  “Love? Are you alright? Do you need more pain meds?”

“Please,” he whispered, trying to swallow and catch his breath.  “I think… I think I’m going to be sick.”

Kylo commed the nurses, but the urgency in Hux’s voice told him he had but moments to attend to him.

“Ben—”

All at once, Kylo unfastened the oxygen mask, pulled a small, empty trash bin over to him with the Force, and eased Hux forward so he wouldn’t choke.  “It’s ok.  I’ve got you.  Go on, get it out.”

The violence of his heaving forced tiny whimpers out of him no matter how hard he tried to stay quiet.  Bitter acid burned the back of his throat, making him gag in disgust, but all he could really feel was the agony in his still tender ribs.  Even as weak as he was, all the muscles in his abdomen squeezed so forcefully he feared the fragile bones would snap again.  He choked and gasped for a few minutes until what little he'd consumed was out of him again.  Kylo stroked the base of his skull, trying to soothe him, but all the physical input brought on another wave of panic.

“D-don’t,” he coughed between ragged gulps of air. He tried to wave his arm to knock Kylo’s away but all his strength had left him. His arms fell to his sides, trembling from the slight effort.  “Please... Don’t.”

Kylo frowned, confused.  It took him a moment to figure out what Hux wanted him to do, or stop doing.  He apologized, setting him back gently into his reclining position.  Unshed tears heavy around the rims of his eyes, Kylo watched him.  He didn’t know what else to say or do to comfort him and reassure him that things were going to be ok.  Kylo hated this helplessness.  He’d still not become accustomed to feeling so useless in the face of Hux’s pain.

Hux grimaced at the awful taste in his mouth.

Kylo pulled one of the oral care packets from the drawer beside the bed and peeled away the sanitizing seal. Inside was a small, flexible ampoule of wintermint gel and a moistened sponge. He’d gotten good at this particular skill over the last few weeks, and being able to do something helpful made him feel a bit better as well.

“Hux, open up,” he said, leaning closer so Hux could see what he wanted to do.

Hux glared at him.

“It’ll help you feel better, being clean.”

Hux knew that Kylo was right, but the indignity of being unable to do something as simple as clean his own teeth prickled at his pride. He already felt disgusting and grimy enough, though, and eventually the desire for order and cleanliness won out over his stubbornness. He opened his mouth, feeling as defenseless as a newborn.

Kylo said nothing while he worked the sponge over Hux’s teeth and around his tongue, siphoning away the bitter taste of the bile and the film that had built up. He was equally careful to avoid eye contact, knowing how much Hux hated this. At least his tongue had finally finished growing back, and his implanted teeth, that had been regrown at the same time as his kidneys, had set firmly in place. Kylo didn’t need to be quite as cautious as he was, but he still worked slowly to give Hux time to acclimate to the experience. This was the first time he’d had to do it while Hux was awake.

Finished, Kylo asked, “How’s that?” He smiled, a weak twitch of his wide lips, confused by Hux’s reaction.  “Better?”

Hux, overwhelmed by a sudden surge of emotion, only stared at Kylo.  He took a few hitching breaths, fighting to keep control.  The realization hit him, leaving a sinking feeling in his chest like the force of the fleet jumping to hyperspace: Kylo knew what he was doing because he’d been doing this, and undoubtedly more for him, this entire time.  The act was simple -- nothing at all in the grand scheme of things -- but it meant more to Hux than any lofty gesture to appease his ego.  Kylo had been here, caring for him while he was unconscious, shaving him, keeping him clean, trying, in all of these small ways, to preserve what little dignity he had left.

He could have just let the nurses do it, but Hux knew that he hadn’t.

He could have gone -- _should have gone_ , Hux thought -- but he hadn’t.

“How,” he gasped, struggling to keep his voice even, “how long?”

“How long… have you been here?” Kylo asked.

Hux gave a slight nod, afraid to trust his voice again.

Kylo exhaled and stared off into the distance.  The long nights, the tense, sleepless hours of surgeries, and the interminable waiting: everything ran together in a blur.  He knew that each of Hux’s surgeries had been followed by a few days of rest and recovery, and that the times before and between had been beset by various complications.  “I think… about three standard weeks.”

Hux sniffled and squeezed his eye shut, freeing a stream of tears.  He felt foolish, weak, _absurd_ for allowing something as insignificant as this to affect him.  He would never have allowed someone to see him in such a state, much less to have _cared_ for him like a youngling.  He could never have trusted anyone to do something like this without taking advantage of his vulnerability.  Even those times he’d been sick on the _Finalizer_ , he’d restricted Mitaka’s fretful attentions to merely delivering meals and medicines.

Kylo’s act of selflessness shook the very foundation of his being, further fracturing the already brittle sense of self he clung to.   

No one had ever treated him with such selfless kindness.  No one.

And now, not just Kylo -- someone Hux previously thought might have an uncontested claim to the title of Most Selfish Being in the Galaxy -- but his sworn enemies as well, had given of their time and their selves to see that he was well cared for. 

The more he tried to reconcile these facts, the more his mind rebelled. 

 _This… this can’t be real.  It_ can’t _be! The Republic is made up of nothing but terrorists and saboteurs.  They would never…_

_But, even Snoke’s mind tricks couldn’t be this insidious.  Surely.  He wouldn’t make me… question… everything._

_Would he?_

Kylo could feel the conflict churning inside his husband.  And, more than the conflict, the genesis of a nascent understanding of what it meant to be loved.  He waited, patiently, hoping that Hux would accept and embrace this insight, rather than run from it as he always had.  Kylo desperately wanted to rejoice with him -- _Yes, this is real.  This is what I want for you.  For us.  Everything is going to be ok.  Please, believe it!_ \-- but he held his tongue.  If Hux came to these conclusions on his own, they would mean more to him than a million promises or proclamations of love from Kylo’s lips.

When Hux finally broke, one word repeatedly sobbed aloud, Kylo wasn’t sure to which facet of his experiences he was referring.  Or if he was even expecting an answer.

_“Why?”_


	3. Chapter 3

Nurse Tarkin had just come on shift when the call from the general’s room sounded on the monitor at the nurses’ station.  She hurried down the hall, but stopped in the doorway when Master Solo held up a hand, signaling for her to wait.  It was just as well she could see her patient’s vitals on the monitors from where she was; his heart rate had spiked and his respiratory rate had increased slightly but his O2 was holding steady, so from what she could see and hear there was no need to interrupt right away.

The general seemed to be having a panic attack of sorts, and it took great effort to suppress her nurse’s instincts to go to him and comfort him.  Instead, she waited at a respectful distance and observed as Ben tried to calm him.

She could see from the presence of the waste bin that he’d vomited.  It wasn’t much, but then again, he hadn’t eaten much lately either.  Emlii frowned in concern.  If he couldn’t keep food down and start putting on weight, he’d have to be put back on tube feeding.  She was quite certain that would not be conducive to his healing, given his fragile mental state, but it might be unavoidable.

Ben had just finished administering oral care for him as well.  Emlii smiled to herself.  She knew he’d done a good job, not just because she’d taught him how to do it, but because she had witnessed him doing it many times since.  Ben was one of the most attentive and helpful family members she’d ever seen in her five years at the hospital.  Most times, the presence of family at the bedside was nothing more than a distraction to her work, or an irritation at the very least.  Ben had been careful to stay out of the way, but also eager to accept more responsibility.  He was a fast study: quick to pick up on and implement proper techniques, not just for personal care, but for more complicated matters like wound care and the changing of bandages and other daily necessities.

He loved his husband dearly.

Such sentiment was difficult to reconcile with the fact that his husband was perhaps the galaxy’s most wanted mass murderer.  Someone who’d put even her own namesake to shame.

Even so, she didn't believe he’d deserved what had happened to him.  Emlii had read his charts and seen enough of his wounds up close and personal to know that he’d suffered horribly.  He’d been relentlessly tortured by someone.  By whom, she didn’t know, and she didn’t much care.  It didn’t matter.  That his injuries had been cruelly and deliberately inflicted was enough. 

The hospital staff had done what they could to heal his body -- and would continue to do so -- but there was very little they could do to ease his mental anguish.  He would live with this for the rest of his life. 

However long that might be.

Surely that was a far worse punishment than whatever the courts decided to dole out.

She'd heard they had called for a military tribunal expressly for the purpose of finding a legal way to implement the death penalty.

As a Republic citizen, Emlii Tarkin was mostly opposed to capital punishment, though she could see the need for it in extreme cases.  There were certainly criminals she’d had to care for in the past that she’d rather not have… but, oddly, Hux wasn’t one of them.  Perhaps because his crime had been so unfathomable and impersonal -- she knew no one in the Hosnian System who had perished, and the sheer number of deaths made them impossible to comprehend in a tangible manner -- but, perhaps, also because his husband’s constant attentions had humanized him.  That, and the fact that Hux, when he was communicative, had been unexpectedly soft-spoken and polite, even when he was clearly in agony. 

Right now, he was in the throes of an emotional breakdown.  She could see the ripples in the Bacta as he trembled and cried himself to the point of exhaustion.  Ben stayed silent and sat beside him, occasionally brushing away his tears or stroking the soft bristle that crowned his scarred head.  Emlii suspected that he was communicating telepathically with Hux; she knew Jedi and other Force users could do that, and she’d witnessed enough one-sided conversations between them to know something was up.  At the moment, though, Ben either wouldn’t, or couldn’t answer him. 

She didn’t know how he could stand it.  Hearing Hux’s feeble, repeated pleas of “Why?” broke her heart.  It wasn’t an easy question to answer, regardless of what he was referring to.  Emlii only knew that in her time as a nurse, she’d learned that humans, and many other beings, could be senselessly callous and brutal.

After a while, Hux had sobbed himself to sleep.  Only then did Ben motion for her to approach.

His eyes were red and raw, bloodshot from crying and from trying not to cry.  He sniffled and whispered, “I don’t know what to do.”  Almost as soon as he’d said it, he blinked and sat up straight, as though surprised by his own words.  He hadn’t meant to reveal such intimate thoughts.  “He keeps getting sick, can’t keep anything down, and… he’s in so much pain, even when he’s asleep like this.  It just… doesn’t stop.”

Before she could stop herself, she’d reached out to him, rubbing soft circles on his shoulder.  Almost imperceptibly, he leaned into the touch, needing as much comfort as he wished he could give.

“Oh, sweetheart, it must be so hard for you, feeling his pain but not being able to stop it.”

He hissed in a deep, steadying breath between clenched teeth and held it for a moment before letting it back out.  She knew she’d hit the mark.  The same feeling, albeit with much less intensity, plagued her daily as a nurse.

“We’re doing everything we can for him.  I know it must not seem like much sometimes.”

“No,” he said, turning his watery brown eyes on her, “No, I know you’re doing whatever you can.  It’s— it’s just— I-I’ve always known what to do.  I’ve always been so certain.  But this… this is… I can’t—”

“You’re doing great, honey, I promise.  You’ve been more help to him than you know.”

“Really?” he blinked, looking embarrassed and hopeful at the same time.

“Oh, absolutely!” Emlii smiled. “Everyone here can tell how devoted you are.  You’ve done so much more than most people do.  You’ve hardly even left his side.  He must know how much you love him.”

Ben’s shoulders slumped and shuddered with a suppressed sob.  He studied Hux for a while before replying. “He doesn’t.”

Emlii didn’t know what to say to that, so she was thankful when he continued.

“He doesn’t know what it is to love someone.  He can’t trust it.  No one has ever loved him before.  He doesn’t let himself feel because… because the only thing he’s ever felt is hurt and alone.  And afraid that if he loses control someone will take advantage of that and hurt him even more.”  He paused, anguish pulling his lip into a snarl at the thought that he used to be that someone.  “I shouldn’t have said that.  It’s not my place.  Frack.”

Suddenly afraid he might use some kind of Jedi mind-trick to wipe her memory (and wondering if he hadn’t already done it before, or how she would even know if he had), she hurried to explain, “Everything that happens in here is confidential.  You don’t have to hold back.”

He sat silently for a while, considering her words. 

Kylo did feel she could be trusted, and the times he had talked with her, reminiscing about their lives before all this, he'd felt better.

“If it helps,” she added, changing the subject, “we could take him out of the Bacta suit now, while he’s asleep.  It might be better for his stress levels.”

“Yeah. Ok. Let’s do it.”

Emlii pushed a mild sedative to ensure Hux remained asleep and drained the Bacta from the suit.  The briny, sticky liquid gurgled out through the tubes loudly enough that Kylo was afraid Hux would wake, but he stayed unconscious.  The rest of the process went smoothly; they worked quietly in tandem, used to the other's movements and intentions after so many weeks of executing similar motions.  Kylo floated Hux above the bed while Emlii folded and rolled the suit, indicating when it was time for Kylo to set him down.  They both dabbed the extra moisture from his skin, in a hurry to get him under the blankets again.  He smelled like he’d been floating in the ocean under a hot summer sun, but his cold, thin frame belied such an image.

Kylo hadn't seen his wounds clearly for several days, since they'd been distorted by the light refracting through the Bacta.  Previously open gashes had closed, edged in fresh, pink flesh.  His delicate hands were still somewhat swollen and mottled with the remnants of fading bruises, though the Bacta had cleared up some of the more ragged scars.  The surgical incisions had all but disappeared, but Hux was still going to bear the marks of his torment forever.  Rampant infections, from the filthy conditions he'd been held in, had prevented the Bacta from working as well as it should have, or at all in some cases.  Waterproof nanobandages still crisscrossed Hux’s back, puffy and angry red along their seams where the infection still raged. 

Once Hux had been tucked under the covers, Emlii reached behind his neck to remove the stiff collar that had held his head in such an uncomfortable position for so long.  He groaned but didn't wake as his head settled into the softness of the pillow.

Emlii whispered, "I'm going to do one last blood draw and round of tests, then Dr. Kalonia will come back to give him the all clear, and then we can change his bandages and start pulling some of these lines.  Once that's all done, you can give him a proper bath, if you like."

Kylo nodded.  When he'd first seen Hux hooked up to all those machines, nothing more than a pale slip of a ghost ready to fade from this world, Kylo didn't think he'd ever have a chance at returning to a normal life.  But the longer he fought, shedding various life support systems one by one, a tenuous hope had sparked to life in him.  Little by little, Hux’s physical condition was improving.  Things would never be the same, but he hoped they could at least return to a semblance of their lives before all of this.

A nice, hot bath would be a good start.


	4. Chapter 4

Hux slept through the next few hours, giving Kylo some time to work on altering the clothes he’d bought.  He sat beside his husband, looking up from his needlework from time to time to check on him whenever his breathing temporarily altered from the shallow but even pattern of sleep.  Every now and then, Hux whimpered or mumbled something, but he remained comfortably in the blessed arms of unconsciousness.

He didn’t even wake when Nurse Rol and Nurse Tarkin returned with Dr. Kalonia for his consult.  They conferred quietly with Kylo, going over Hux’s current condition and future treatment options with regards to both physical and mental therapy, and the stressors likely to affect him before and during the upcoming trial.  It was a lot to take in, but Kylo had become much better at compartmentalizing Hux’s needs and setting aside his own desires in favor of his husband’s.  It all felt a bit dishonest, now that Hux was mostly awake and aware, for Kylo to be making the majority of the decisions regarding his care, but Hux’s frequent bouts of desperation and panic still made him a danger to himself.  Until he regained more control and clarity, and quelled his suicidal ideations, Kylo would remain in charge.

The bandages on Hux’s back needed to be changed, and the infected areas treated, before he could be allowed to bathe.  Kylo insisted on being allowed to help, even though the nurses warned him that Hux would be in terrible pain throughout, and no matter how he responded -- begging, pleading, crying -- it would be better for him if they continued to work as quickly as possible.  The sooner they finished, the sooner the pain would end.  Pausing would only increase the chances of infection and prolong his agony.  Kylo nodded.  He’d already been party to Hux’s misery, through pain far more excruciating and unimaginable, due to their bond in the Force.

The nurses pushed a heavy dose of painkiller first, but there was little else that could be done to dull the pain of burn treatments.  Kylo tied his hair back, scrubbed in, and donned the necessary gown, mask, and gloves to ensure that he wouldn’t cause any further infection to take root, all the while starting to question whether or not he really wanted to be here for this.  He could handle the pain, and he had no doubt that Hux could as well, but he dreaded the longer-lasting implications of Hux associating him with such agony.  In the end, he decided that he’d promised to stay beside his husband and see him through this, and he intended to keep his word. 

Kylo felt awful having to wake Hux, but the nurses pointed out that having to do uncomfortable things like bandage changes and removing catheters would be somewhat easier on him if he were still groggy and not yet fully awake.  And doing it while he was still asleep meant he’d wake in confusion and terror that he’d been right all along, that he was still being tortured back on the _Finalizer_.  This way, at least, he would have some understanding of what was happening, but be distracted enough that the pain might not be as bad.

They’d wanted to roll Hux over onto his stomach, so that it would be harder for him to fight them if he suddenly lashed out, but Kylo knew that would trigger an even deeper fear response in him.  Instead, Kylo would sit on the bed and pull Hux forward to lean on him, holding him upright in a seated position.  He didn’t care if Hux hit him or clawed at him.  He deserved it.

*Tage? Love?* Kylo eased himself into Hux’s consciousness as gently as he shifted his weight onto the bed, *We’re going to have to change the bandages on your back.  It’s going to hurt.  I’m sorry.  But after that, they’re going to take out the IVs and catheters, and you’ll be able to have a real bath. You’ll feel so much better after that.* 

Hux groaned an unintelligible question, but snapped his eye open when he felt his weight shifting forward. “Ben? What—”

“It's ok.  It's just me.  Hold on to me if you need to,” Kylo whispered as Hux’s slight form settled against his broad chest. 

“What’s happening?”

He rested Hux’s chin on his shoulder and hooked his arms under Hux’s to keep him balanced and hold him still.  Hux’s thinness shocked him.  Kylo could feel the ridges of each rib as his lungs heaved in panic.  “I’m sorry.  They’ve got to change your bandages.  Just breathe through it and hold on to me.”

He felt Hux’s slight nod against his neck.  Hux took a deep, shuddering breath and held it in anticipation.

The first few strips fell away without much resistance, revealing bright pink, new skin underneath. Hux exhaled timidly, surprised that it hurt much less than he’d expected.  But he tensed and sucked in a sharp breath as the next row peeled suppurated flesh away with the pus-stiffened bandages.  Fire spread over his back and he jerked involuntarily, pressing into Kylo in an attempt to escape the pain.

“You’re doing great, sweety, just hang in there,” Emlii said.

Hux’s harried breathing belied his torment, no matter how hard he tried to stay silent.  Kylo felt the tremors wracking his body.  Behind him, Hux’s fingers clawed weakly at his robes.  “They’re about a third of the way through, love.  Just try to breathe deeply.  It’ll be over soon.”

A small whimper escaped him at the thought that there was so much more left yet to do.  The farther down his back they progressed, the deeper the wounds, and the more sensitive the skin became. 

Vratik had taken his time carving away at the thick network of scars on Hux’s back, stripping away even that insignificant protection against the torturer’s lash.  Afterwards, he’d followed up with salt, various caustic chemicals, and stars knew what else before finally finishing off his sadistic masterpiece with the concentrated flame of a plasma torch.  The steady, measured pace with which the nurses peeled away the wrappings and scrubbed at the putrid gashes brought it all crashing back into his consciousness.  Memory blended with present sensation, threatening to send him hurtling into a panicky spiral. 

Hux’s fear spiked through the Force, leaving ripples of disquiet amongst the bright crimson reflection of his pain.  Kylo wished he could take all of this on himself, anything to give Hux a reprieve.  “I know it hurts, love, but you’re safe here.  You’re in the hospital.  Focus on me.  Try to breathe with me.  Can you feel that?  Just follow my lead.”

Hux tried to acknowledge that he’d heard Kylo, but his grip on reality remained tenuous at best.  He didn’t trust his voice.  If he made a sound now, he might not be able to stop whatever screams escaped him.  He could feel Kylo’s chest expanding and contracting under him and tried to time his breaths to Kylo’s slow, even rhythm.  It was hard -- every breath he took pulled at the edges of the bandages, snapping the thin tendrils of dead flesh that held to the fresh, scabbed over skin -- but he forced himself to endure. 

“Good.  That’s it.  Deep breaths.  Slow.  We’re halfway there.”

Kylo felt Hux’s throat bob against his shoulder as he swallowed back his cries.  He could see the white gleam of exposed bone over the sharp curve of Hux’s shoulders.  The synthflesh hadn’t taken over the deepest of the injuries, which still oozed so much putrescence Kylo could smell death digging its claws into the wounds.  At least in the places where the rot was the worst, Hux no longer had any feeling, but the nerves adjacent to the damage seemed to cry out in defiance of their demise.

Every time Anan finished debriding an area, Emlii followed up with a fresh Bacta patch, using the flat of her hand to press it flush with the ragged slashes and apologizing for each jump it elicited from her patient.  In principle, the synthflesh in the Bacta patch would seal the wound and heal it, fighting the infection and allowing new tissue to grow up from under the safety of its airtight protection.  However, it had not been engineered to combat infections this deep or widespread. 

Hux made it as far as the final quarter before crying out and trying to squirm away.  Kylo held him firmly, worried that he was adding to his pain.  “Be still, Tage.  It’s ok.  Just a few more to go.  Don’t fight.”

“I can’t! K-Ky— I can’t! Please! Stop! Please! I can’t take it anymore!”

“I know, love.  You’ve been through so much already.  You can do it.  It’s just a few more, I promise.  It’s almost over.”

“Ben, please! Make— Make them stop! Please just let— let me catch my breath! Please!”

Emlii and Anan both caught Kylo’s eye as they hastened to remove and replace the last few strips.  He could see their empathy for him, but also their concern that he might give in.  “Please hurry,” he mouthed, blinking back tears.  Hux had always been so stoic in his suffering, so Kylo knew it had to be on the brink of breaking him again if he were reduced to begging like this.

“You’re gonna be ok, honey; I’m on the last one now,” Emlii assured him, “Deep breath.”

Hux shivered in agony and gasped for air, wishing he could just pass out and escape all of this.  Even after they’d finished, he could do nothing more than let out a thin, keening whine between attempts to catch his breath.

Emlii rubbed his shoulder lightly.  “Alright, sweetheart, it’s done.  Just try to relax now.  We’ll be back in a little while to get all these tubes out of you, then you’ll start to feel a lot better.”

The nurses’ warnings had not prepared Kylo for hearing his husband plead for mercy, nor for the depth of his pain.  He sat, absently stroking the back of Hux’s neck and staring into the distance, shaken by the reverberations of Hux’s agony in the Force.  He'd been through so much, and Kylo had assumed the worst of it had passed.  He was too afraid to move Hux now, lest he cause his love any more discomfort.  _At least I’m getting to hold him for a while_ , Kylo thought, cherishing the moment, though he also worried that this would be yet another reason for Hux to shy away from his affections.  If it felt like a betrayal to Kylo, it had to be exponentially worse for Hux.

Tentatively, he reached out through their bond. *I’m so sorry, Tage. They have to keep your wounds clean until they heal. It’s all over for today. Try to rest.*

Hux nodded.  Though the “today” part of that reassurance dug into his subconscious, he chose to ignore it.  His breathing slowed and his pounding heartbeat became more regular, but he still shook from time to time.

Kylo sat with him, loosening his grip so that Hux merely leaned against him, supported by Kylo’s hand gently massaging his aching side. When he sensed Hux beginning to tense, he stopped.

*I’m sorry. Do you want to lie down now?*

Kylo felt the dread pulsing through Hux at the thought of lying down on his back.  _Can I lie on my side?_  

*Of course, if you think that will feel better.*

_Everything hurts. It hardly matters._

Kylo didn’t think Hux intended for him to hear that particular thought, so he refrained from commenting. *Let me help you.*

Hux nodded against his neck.

“Ok.  Slowly.  Lean this way.”  Kylo eased him down, cradling him with the Force more than his own strength, until Hux was lying curled on his side.  He rearranged the pillows and blankets, and checked that the various tubes and intravenous drips weren’t tangled or kinked, to make his husband as comfortable as possible.  Smiling, Kylo murmured, “How’s that?”

Hux tried to straighten out his frown.  It hurt less, but "less" was a useless measure against the infinity of pain that permeated his body and mind.

“Better.”

Kylo reached out slowly, stroking a thumb over where Hux’s eyebrow had started to grow back above his missing eye.  The orange bristles stuck out at erratic intervals from the warped, burned flesh.  The doctors and nurses had cleaned and sterilized the socket, then sealed it over with a smooth swath of synthflesh. It looked as though it had grafted well, but the scars above and below it would remain unless he opted for cosmetic surgery later.   Kylo hoped his touch was soothing, but he wondered if Hux could feel it at all.   The nerve damage in the area had been severe.

Hux’s arm inched toward his head, and Kylo pulled his hand away, worried that he was somehow hurting him.  “Tage? Are you ok?”

“Eye itches,” he said, conserving words to save energy for moving. 

“Don’t touch it.  It’s still infected.  They’ll be back with your eye drops soon.”

Hux let out a sigh and gave up. He blinked a few times to try to quell the incessant irritation but then closed his eye.

“Try to rest for a while.  I’ll be right here.” 

A groan of acknowledgement was the only response Kylo got.

Sensing that Hux felt cold, Kylo draped the larger blanket over his shoulders and slid his hand underneath Hux’s.  He knew better than to expect Hux to complain of his ailments when he was in control of himself, but Hux did allow his fingers to curl around Kylo’s, weakly.

Kylo’s heart beat a little faster at the sensation. 

After a while, Hux startled Kylo with a barely perceptible whisper.

"Thank you."

Kylo thought he'd already fallen asleep.  Smiling, he leaned over and placed a soft kiss on Hux's forehead. 

"I love you."

Hux didn't respond, but Kylo couldn't tell if it was because he'd drifted off or just didn't believe him.


	5. Chapter 5

Anan and Emlii returned to check on their patient shortly before going off shift.  They entered the room so quietly that if it hadn’t been for their presence in the Force, Kylo wouldn't have even noticed their arrival.  They busied themselves with scans and IV drips while Kylo focused on putting the finishing touches on one of the tunics he'd bought for Hux.

”How's he doing?" Nurse Tarkin whispered.

Kylo looked up from his sewing and gave her a tired smile.  "Sleeping again, I think. Or trying to."

"Poor thing, he must be so exhausted from all this."

Kylo nodded.  Despite having spent the previous night away at his old, family apartment in order to talk with his mother and uncle, restfulness had eluded him, too.  He tied off the final stitch and snipped the excess thread.  "He’s not really getting much sleep. How long will it take to flush the interrogation drugs out of his system?"

Anan answered, having had more experience treating former prisoners of war, "So long as we keep running the neutralizing agents through his drips, we can dull the effects, but it will take anywhere from six months to a year for him to be able to regularly attain a normal sleeping pattern again. It's a nasty combination of drugs."

"You can thank my father for that," Hux mumbled.

Kylo set aside the deep green tunic he’d been working on and took Hux’s hand.

"I don't suppose he created an antidote?" Anan raised an eyeridge.

"If he bothered to, he never taught me. It wasn't meant to be circumvented."

Hux tensed as Emlii stepped around behind him.  Kylo stroked his hand.

“General, I'm going to put my hand on your hip to hold you still, and pull this arterial line.  I'll have to put pressure on it for about 5 minutes to stop the bleeding. It's going to be a little uncomfortable. I'm sorry. Try to be still and it'll be over before you know it.”

Hux nodded, but he couldn't stop himself from trembling when the sheets slid down his flank, exposing him.  He hissed as the cannula slid free and she clamped a Bacta strip down over the insertion point.  The spot felt tenderer than he expected, but it was mostly the pressure and the hand holding him still that jolted panic up his spine.

His shaking intensified.

“I'm so sorry, honey, I know it hurts,” she looked up, and Kylo read the question in her eyes.

He leaned closer to Hux, caressing his cheek.  “Tage? It's alright, love; it's just the nurse.”

Hux's breathing quickened, coming in strained, panting gasps.

“Would you rather I held it?”

Hux gave no sign that he'd even heard Kylo, so Kylo looked to Emlii for guidance.

“You'll have to press down hard,” Emlii explained, guiding his much larger hand to center his thumb over the correct spot.  Once he had switched out with her, she hurried around to Hux's line of sight again.

“Ok, love, it's just me now. Alright?”

Hux's only response was a stifled whimper.

“It's just me. No one’s gonna hurt you.”  Though he had to keep pressure over the artery in his groin, he tried to keep his grip on Hux's bony hip as light as possible.  His leg had become so thin that Kylo’s long fingers nearly wrapped around to the crease of his buttocks. Waves of agitation rippled through the Force; Hux wanted to jerk away, but just enough rationality remained in his tormented mind to fight the urge. His panicked thoughts hovered so near the surface Kylo couldn't help but see the vivid flashes of fear.  _Hands everywhere, fingers digging into his bruised flesh, holding him still, so they could…_

“It’s ok, love. It's ok. You're safe.” Kylo wanted to reach out to caress his cheek, but feared that the touch would only fuel the nightmare images, so he kept holding Hux’s hand as loosely as he could. “Hux, look at me. Focus on me. Look at where we are. You’re in the hospital. You're safe here, love.”

Emlii could see the downward spiral of panic into which her patient was rapidly descending, and made her decision, “I’m going to pull these catheters, now.  I think it might be best for him if we get it all done as quickly as possible.”

Kylo nodded.

Moving closer, she pressed the switch to deflate the balloon that anchored the tubing in place inside Hux’s bladder.  “Ok, sweetheart, deep breath. I'm going to pull it out on three, ok? One, two…”

At the discomfort of the catheter sliding free, Hux’s fingers twitched in Kylo’s palm.  He cringed and shuddered, and when he opened his eye again he was staring at some far point beyond Kylo, his voice growing as distant as his gaze. 

“Wires. Conduit wiring… I-I don’t know—”

Kylo frowned and glanced over at the nurse to see if she’d heard the same thing.  Her similar look of confusion indicated that she had.

“Tage?”

“Stop,” he gasped, “Please. No more.”

His fingers continued to spasm against Kylo’s.  It took Kylo a while to recognize a pattern in the movement. It matched the words he'd whispered. 

 _Tap code_.

“Tage, it’s ok, they’re just taking the catheters out. They’re almost done.”

“I’m going to get this last one out of him.  I'll be quick.” She circled around behind him again and repeated her count, pulling the tube out and cleaning him up with gentle, practiced swipes when she'd finished. Hux whimpered.  Emlii looked genuinely contrite. “There you go, honey, all done. I'm sorry about that. Isn't that better now?” 

Hux continued to stare through Kylo, even when Kylo leaned into his line of sight and wiggled his thumb against Hux’s weak grip to get his attention.

“It's all done now, love.  It’s ok.”

Hux fidgeted under the pressure Kylo continued to put on his groin.  It was only one hand, but the sensation was suddenly overwhelming.  Too many hands, everywhere, holding him down, forcing him against that cold, rough stone…

“You're ok, love.  Try not to move.  I just have to hold this spot for a few more minutes.  I'm sorry.”

The deep thrum of Kylo’s voice pulled him back to the edge of reality.  Hux grimaced, the disgust as much for himself as for the memories of what had been done to him.  “They… put things… inside me.”

Hux wanted, needed, to look at Kylo, to ground himself in the now, but he couldn’t bear Kylo seeing the deep humiliation in his eye.  Or to see the pity that undoubtedly dwelled in Kylo’s.  He already felt the heat climbing his cheeks.  He didn’t know why he couldn’t shut up, but once the words were out they were running for freedom.  He _needed_ to talk about it, even if every instinct in him shouted at him to shut up.  It terrified him.  He’d spent so much of his life alone, and now he worried that Kylo would leave him.  He had enough reasons to already.

“I can still f-feel it.”

“There’s just this central line now, love,” Kylo murmured, temporarily taking his hand from Hux’s to trace his fingertips over the outline of the bandage along his collarbone. “The rest of it’s all gone.” Kylo didn't think Hux was speaking of the things done to him in the hospital, but he didn't know what else to say.  He needed to bring Hux back to the here and now, ground him in acknowledgement of his true surroundings.  Hux’s frayed mind floated between awareness and dissociation to escape the anguish of the phantom sensations and the words that would not be silenced.

“It was a game for them.  Putting things in me.  Making me guess what it was.  I-If I didn't answer, or didn't know, they….they would just… They wouldn't let me escape the pain. Not for a moment. I couldn't dissociate. I had to… feel it.  All of it.”

Kylo didn't trust his voice to conceal the fire Hux’s suffering had ignited once more.  There was no end to the atrocities he’d endured, no limit to the cruelty they’d inflicted on him.  Just when Kylo thought he’d felt or seen it all, some other detail like this would surface.  They had done so many unspeakable things to his love, there wasn't a deluge massive enough in the entire galaxy to quench the rage inside him. 

“You're safe now,” he whispered, but it wasn’t enough.  Nothing he could say would ever be enough, but it was all Kylo could think of.  If he said it again and again, perhaps he could speak it into being.  Perhaps Hux would one day believe him.  He would do anything to keep his love safe from harm, but words were flimsy constructs without action to fortify them.

And, the fact remained that Kylo _hadn’t_ protected him. 

Kylo knew this.  So did Hux.  The pain of it writhed and coiled deep in Kylo’s psyche.  He raged at his failure.   _Frack Snoke! I should have come back for him.  I should never have left him there in the first place.  Why did I have to choose_ that _moment to listen to him?_ The mantle of blame settled over his shoulders once more, but he also knew that Hux had wanted to return to his ship.  His home.  He had no reason to expect anything worse than a severe dressing down from the Supreme Leader.  Kylo couldn’t have known that _this_ would be Snoke’s reaction.  And yet, guilt still wrapped its icy tendrils around his innards, knotting his stomach.  If he hadn’t gone looking for Skywalker and had just returned as commanded, this wouldn’t have happened.  _But Snoke wanted Skywalker! It was a good plan! What went wrong?_   Without asking Hux he might never know for certain, but it stood to reason that somehow, Snoke had found the alterations to Hux’s memories that he’d put in place to protect him.

_We thought we could outsmart him.  No one outsmarts him._

He wanted to apologize again, but it served no purpose at this point; he didn't need Hux feeling like he should expend what little energy he had comforting him in return, so he remained silent, stroking his fingers across Hux's scarred hand and watching his gaze until it refocused.

“You can let go now,” Emlii said to Kylo, then to Hux, “Try not to move that leg for a little while, sweety.”

Kylo lifted his thumb, carefully easing off the pressure.  The tiny spot of blood on the bandage didn’t get any bigger.  He exhaled and slowly pulled his hand away, reaching up to stroke Hux’s cheek.  “There you go.  Is that better?”

Hux gave a slight nod and closed his fingers around Kylo’s.

Kylo smiled. “How do you feel about that bath now?”


	6. Chapter 6

Not so many years ago, Kylo would have perceived Hux’s thinness as a personal affront.  The first time he’d seen him jogging through the Finalizer, divested of his billowing coat and heavily padded uniform, Kylo had looked on him with contempt.  He’d mistaken Hux’s concealed slenderness for frailty. 

Hux was anything but frail.

At the moment he was as weak as a newborn Loth cat -- unable to even sit up on his own, much less stand -- but that was only a matter of circumstance.  The strength with which he’d endured all the torments of his life-long suffering spoke to the depth of his mental fortitude, which, in the end, proved greater than any of Kylo’s physical prowess.

Kylo admired him for that silent tenacity.  

He loved him for it.

No other man had come close to being Kylo’s equal, and he was glad that he’d finally had the presence of mind to see that he’d severely underestimated Hux.  Their relationship had never been easy, but it had been passionate and churning with an intense devotion to which neither of them often admitted.

Kylo expected that would change now.  Though _how_ he did not yet know.

The mirrored wall in the oversized refresher had been polarized to reduce its reflectivity.  As Kylo carried Hux past, he caught his sidelong glance toward it.

“Ben,” he whispered, his voice devoid of color. “Let me see.”

“Hux—”

“Let me see.  Please.”

Kylo held him aloft with the Force, shifting him upright and keeping Hux’s arm around his shoulders for support.  Against his better judgment, he tapped the datapad to clear the mirrors.

Hux gasped, the feeble sound carrying more despair than any words could have mustered. He stared at the gaunt horror reflected back at him, too shocked by the broken image to speak.  His skin stretched over his bones like a flag in a thunderstorm, plastered against its poles.  Deep shadows pooled in the hollows of his cheeks and sunken eye, and his close-cropped hair jutted out in greasy spikes.

He couldn’t see the stump of his thigh in the mirror, but all he had to do was glance down.

Despite days of staring at it, a truncated lump under the soft falls of the sheets, he couldn’t bring himself to look at it now.

Kylo felt the open wound in the Force that was Hux’s spirit.  It oozed self-loathing and anger, but more than that, a profound sadness, an ache that throbbed with loss and a sense of regret. 

Pressing his lips together, Hux inhaled deeply through his nose.  He didn’t dare let those pent up tears fall.  Giving in to self-pity would be to plunge headlong into a black hole of doubt and despondency, and he’d never be able to claw his way out past the horizon of his own wretchedness.

“Disgusting,” he exhaled, sneering at his reflection.

Kylo pulled him closer and whispered against his neck, “I love you.”

“How?” Hux croaked, voice strained with the struggle to maintain his dignity, “Why?”

Kylo met his gaze in the reflection.  “Because this,” he gestured down the length of Hux’s body, “is all just armor.  It protects what I love.”  He moved his hand over Hux’s heart, “In here,” and leaned over to place a kiss on his temple, “and in here.”

Hux made a noise that wanted to be a snort of derision, but ended up a half-sob.  He bit his lip.

“Sometimes armor gets damaged.  That’s how you know you’ve won a hard fight.  And you _did_ win.”

Hux rarely saw this side of Kylo.  Gentle.  Supportive.  Disgustingly sentimental.  He didn’t know how to react.  Instinct shouted at him to lash out, but he couldn’t bear to meet this rare openness with hate, to destroy it like everything else in their relationship.  And yet, it did stoke a fire inside him: anger that he longed for this kind of softness, and anger that twisted its pure intent into pity and condescension.  He knew it wasn’t, but he’d lost control of the battalion of feelings that had broken through his defenses.

It wasn’t fair. 

It wasn’t fair that they’d taken his eye, his leg, his wedding ring, his dignity, his fidelity.

He deserved it for the things he’d done.  That’s what he’d heard others saying in hushed tones as they scurried by outside, when they thought he was sleeping.  That’s what he told himself, to make it all easier to stomach.  But, no matter how assiduously he tried to justify what had happened to him, the wrongness of the cruelty cried out from deep inside, demanding to be heard.  Such brutality could never be excused.  And now, after surviving all this, they wanted to put him to death.  Why couldn’t Kylo have just left him to die? It would have been so much easier than… this.

He collapsed onto Kylo’s shoulder, weeping and weakly beating his fists against his chest as though he could fight off his pathetic need to live and be loved.  Choking out anguished wails between sobs, he struggled to quiet himself, but his failure to do so made him cry all the harder.

Kylo gathered him up as carefully as he could and still allow his strength to be felt.  He wished he could shelter Hux from his inner turmoil as easily as he could shield him from physical threats.  He let Hux cry while stroking his hair and whispering, “It’s ok.  We're alone here.  Let it out.”

What little strength Hux had gave out, but Kylo held him close and surrounded him with enough Force energy to keep him upright.  As his misery abated, slowing to hiccups and sniffles, Kylo scooped him up into his arms again and carried him toward the tub.  “Let’s get you cleaned up, ok? You’ll feel a little bit better.”

Hux nodded once, curt and almost imperceptible, against Kylo’s chest.

Kylo carried him to the edge of the energy field that held in the water, and lowered him into its warmth.  He rolled up the sleeves of his robe and knelt beside Hux, watching carefully for any sign of discomfort. 

Hux tensed and hissed, expecting even the formless touch of the water to send shrieking agony through the frayed nerves of his back, but he felt only a mild irritation.  The bandages held firm and kept his wounds sealed and dry.  He groaned as the heat penetrated his muscles and slowly leeched away some of the stress and strain he’d been holding in for weeks.  Everything ached, but he hadn’t realized how deeply the pain had sunk into his poor, tired bones until the heat released the tension surrounding them.  At least this was a pleasurable soreness, like the kind he felt in a hot, post-jog shower.      

“Is it alright? Too hot?”

“It’s fine,” Hux sighed.

Kylo smiled as a flicker of Hux’s contentment shimmered in the Force.  He let him relax and acclimate to the sensation before reaching for the bottle of pearlescent soap and a washcloth.  “Do you want me to—”

“No, I can—” Hux reached out for it but the cloth slipped from his weakened grasp.  He grabbed at it, but knew he wouldn’t be able to hold on to it firmly enough to do any good.  His fingers simply would not cooperate.  Even reaching for the rag had required far more effort than he’d anticipated.  His hands sank back into the water in defeat.  Shame reddened his ears, but the heat of the tub had already flushed his wan skin pink, covering for his embarrassment. 

“Let me help,” Kylo offered.  He squirted a bit of soap onto the washcloth and worked up a lather before taking Hux’s hand and placing it in his palm.  Kylo curled his hand over Hux’s to give him the tensile strength he needed.

Hux’s breath stuttered at the simple kindness.  He thought he might start crying again as Kylo glided the washcloth in slow circles over his bruised chest and abdomen, letting Hux control the direction in order to create the illusion of the independence he so deeply desired.  Before long, though, he had exhausted his meager supply of energy and had to let Kylo finish up for him.  Wordlessly, Kylo took the cloth and added more soap, rubbing it under and over his thin arms with careful, massaging strokes.  

Kylo had always thought his hands too big, too clumsy to touch the seemingly delicate Hux. He never stopped to think that this was something Hux might want. That he felt safe in that strength.

Kylo smiled.

Hux blushed again.  He hadn't been bathed like this since that time he'd been knocked into the mud by a nerf. He’d been about 4 years old, and had snuck out to the pens to let the calves enjoy a saltrock after their evening meal.  They'd crowded around him, overly enthusiastic to lick at the rare treat, and he'd lost his footing as the wet ground around him churned under their stomping hooves.  One of them bumped him into a puddle, and the dirt had splashed into his eyes.  Though he knew they hadn't meant to do it, he panicked.  Nerfs had poor eyesight, and the ground was no place for a tiny boy when the herd was excited and distracted.  He'd scrambled away blindly from their crushing feet, knocked this way and that, and finally stumbled back to the kitchens, crying.  His mother had gathered him up in her arms, shushed him, and cleaned him off in one of the large washbasins.  Even though he'd been terrified of what Brendol’s reaction to his carelessness would be, the experience had been a rare comfort.  A small affection that he'd craved.  As an adult, he couldn't help but feel humiliated at the necessity, but he also couldn't help the strong desire he felt as Kylo’s large, warm hands slid over him.

Hux would never admit that, though: to need something, even in pleasure, was a weakness he would not abide in himself. 

He closed his eye.

Kylo let the washcloth drift in the eddies of the swirling tub for a moment, cupping his hands and scooping up some water to dampen Hux’s hair before he popped the cap on the bottle of shampoo.  The liquid shimmered, purple and blue in his palm. He couldn’t place the scent, but its light, floral notes reminded him of the fancy soaps he’d sometimes bring back for Hux when he went planetside.

“I’m gonna wash your hair.  Keep your eye closed, ok?”

Hux nodded.

A soft sigh parted his lips as Kylo’s fingers worked the soap through the stringy tufts. 

Kylo did his best to avoid any tender spots, rubbing softly around the scars on his scalp.  Kylo wondered if his hair would ever grow back there.  He felt silly and selfish, being nostalgic for Hux’s beautiful, bronze locks, given all the other indignities he’d suffered, but he missed the calming sensation of running his fingers through it, and the small sense of normalcy and peace it gave to Hux.  

He smiled again at Hux’s quiet snores.  That he felt comfortable and relaxed enough to fall asleep while naked and vulnerable like this was a good sign.  Kylo worried that he’d be abusing that trust by taking advantage of his slumber to wash the parts of him that might otherwise induce panic, but it had to be done.  He rinsed the soap from Hux’s hair and kept one hand on the back of his neck, gently kneading at the knotted muscles there, while he retrieved the washcloth and carefully cleaned around his more sensitive areas.  Thankfully, Hux did not wake, though Kylo was surprised (and relieved) at Hux’s slight arousal during his ministrations.  He hadn't expected that Hux would, or could, be stimulated after all of the callous treatment he'd received.

It was a promising sign, but that would have to wait for later.  Much later.  Until then, Kylo would have to be satisfied with any chance he had to touch and soothe his husband.

Kylo kept Hux afloat with the Force and busied himself scrubbing down Hux’s legs and foot while his erection subsided.  The fading bruises on his pale thighs angered Kylo, but he focused his attention on his work and reminded himself that Hux was recovering now.  Most of the physical reminders of his torment would disappear in time.  He hoped the mental reminders would heal as well.

The vents in the tub filtered away the soap and grime, and cycled fresh water in so that Hux could continue to soak.  Kylo let him float for some time, admiring his body even in its beleaguered state.  Hux was so strong.  So resilient.  He just wished he could get Hux to see himself the way he did.  It would have been difficult even under normal circumstances, but Kylo Ren was not one to shy away from a challenge.  He would do anything he could to help Hux restore his self-confidence.

For a while, he held Hux’s hand and watched him sleep.  When his fingertips began to prune, Kylo lifted him from the water and wrapped him in a large, soft towel.  Kylo patted him down, trying not to wake him, but the movement and the change in temperature caused him to stir.

Tension shot through Hux’s spine as he realized he was damp and naked.  The only reason someone would clean him off like this…

He glanced at Kylo, his expression contorting from a vague nervousness to terrified anguish.  Profound sorrow radiated from his trembling form.

“Please,” he begged, though his words were not meant for Kylo. “Please, not with his face. Not like this. Please. Don't make me— don't… I can't. Please, Supreme Leader, I beg you. Anyone but him.”

“Tage?” Kylo ventured.  He didn't understand until the images flashed through Hux’s mind, propelled by so much fear and agony that Kylo couldn't avoid feeling and seeing them: heart pounding, troopers hosing him off, an officer approaching, terror and pain and humiliation, rough hands and fingers inside him, being forced open yet again for someone’s lurid pleasure.  Kylo gasped and closed his mind to the visions, his rage ignited once more.

“Tage, it's alright," the words hissed out with a strained calmness, "I won't hurt you… Can you hear me?”

Hux blinked and stared at him, tears flowing freely down his cheek as he shook his head in denial. “Please. Don't do this. Please. Not you.”

“I won't, love. I won't. I would never hurt you.”

The tension in Hux’s spine slackened.  His shoulders fell.  He sighed, a tiny whimper of resignation that split Kylo’s heart in two.  Hux was convinced that he was about to be raped again, by Kylo no less, and there was nothing Kylo could do, while Hux was lost in this hallucinatory flashback, to dissuade him of it. 

Kylo grit his teeth and finished drying him, scrubbing away his own silent tears of frustration.  None of this was fair, but this… this was by far the worst feeling yet.  They couldn’t even share a single moment of peace together without it being ruined by what those vile beings had done to him.  Kylo had had only the barest, intellectual understanding of what Dr. Kalonia had meant when she’d said that Hux’s recovery would be hard on their relationship.  Now, he truly understood, but it brought him no peace of mind.  His husband, who had never once feared his power, now trembled before him, convinced of his malice.  The feelings of betrayal, guilt, uselessness, and helplessness twisted Kylo’s guts and constricted his chest.  He could hardly breathe for the agony.  It was difficult not to allow the despair to overwhelm him.

Who could Hux count on for safety, for protection, for unconditional love, if not his husband?

Kylo took the folded clothes from the countertop.  He hadn’t even noticed that one of the nurses had dropped them off, he’d been so focused on Hux and enraptured with his relief in the bath.

Hux’s confusion tickled the back of his mind when he pulled the drawstring pants up and tied them loosely over Hux’s jutting hip bones. 

Being clothed again -- it fractured the animalistic state he’d been forced into, but Hux was still too broken to dare to hope.  The voice in his head snapped back that this was just a trick, another cruel deception to destroy whatever miniscule hope he still had.  He would be covered, and then it would be ripped away again to impress upon him the futility of his resistance.

Nausea welled up in him, a constant companion to his fear. 

 _He doesn’t love you_ , the voice whispered.  _He left you to me._

The tiniest defiance fell from his lips.

“No.”

Kylo stopped fastening the shirt over Hux’s shoulders and tried to catch his gaze, worried that Hux didn’t want to be dressed for some reason, but he was still staring into the distance; he hadn’t been speaking to Kylo.

“I… I told him. I told him to stay away…”

Kylo couldn’t see the demons his husband was facing, but he leaned close, touching his forehead to Hux's and murmured, “Come back to me, love. Please. You’re safe now. I promise. No one will hurt you.”

Hux looked at him through the blur of his tears.  “Don’t hurt me.”

“Oh, love. Never. I will _never_ —”

“Please. I can’t— I can’t take it. I—”  He shivered violently, as though his body might shatter as thoroughly as his mind if Kylo were to harm him.

“No, Tage, listen to me,” he placed his hands on either side of Hux’s face and looked him in the eye, “I will never hurt you. Never. Do you understand? This is real. This here. Me. I’m real. I love you. Nothing could ever make me hurt you like that. Not Snoke. No one. Nothing.”

Hux met his gaze, his stare digging into the earthy brown of Kylo’s eyes to excavate whatever truth he could discern there.  He wanted to believe Kylo.  He really did.  But he also knew that if he were assaulted one more time, particularly by Kylo, or whatever specter Snoke had summoned to torment him in his husband’s image, it would be the end of his sanity.  Something irreparable inside him would rip open, and no amount of solace could ever stitch it back together.

“I want…” Hux struggled with the words.  No, not the words, the idea that the words represented.  He’d rarely ever wanted anything for himself, anything that was not explicitly for the good of the Order. 

“I want…” His entire life he had been conditioned to want nothing.  A deep-rooted shame bloomed at the very through of expressing his selfish desires.  The words felt clumsy in his mouth, as though the shape of them didn’t fit with his usual eloquent rhetoric.  Yet another thing to be ashamed of. 

“I just want my body to be... my own.”

Kylo opened his mouth to respond, but words failed him in the face of such misery, such a simple request that held more complexity than the delicate balance of the universe itself.  He could never truly know the depth of Hux’s suffering, but he understood what it was to have the desire for freedom gnawing at his insides like a caged and starved animal.  His own mind hadn’t been his since he was very young.  His lips trembled, searching for something that could fill the space between them with sympathy.

“Look.” Kylo took a small step back to give him some space.  He continued, guiding one of Hux’s hands over the velvety pile of the shirt he’d put on him and then backing away, supporting him with the Force alone, “I got this for you.  I fixed it so that you could wear it even with the IVs.  I wanted you to feel safe.  Covered.  Protected.”  Kylo sniffled but tried to smile through the pain.  “Your body is yours.  No one has a right to it.  Not Snoke.  Not me.  Not _anyone_.  I don’t have to touch you to be with you.  If I have to keep my distance to help you feel safe and give you that control, then, in some small way, this is the next best thing.”

Kylo thought the gesture small, but to Hux it was as profound as a holy rite, as momentous as the fulfillment of an ancient prophecy upon his skin.  Since childhood he had craved -- without having the vocabulary or knowledge to express it -- his own autonomy.  His father had commanded his flesh until he’d become an officer, and after that, his superiors had molded him into whatever instrument of destruction they’d required.  Along the way, there had been others who had taken what they wanted of him to sate their own desires.  And through it all, Snoke had been there to break him down whenever he’d dared, through his accomplishments, or through his intellect, to build himself up.  His father’s death, though satisfying, hadn’t liberated him from the control of others.  Even with Kylo, he’d felt his own twisted sense of obligation to supply the knight with the physical affection he so often desired. 

Since before he could speak, he’d been used: physically, mentally, emotionally.

No gift, nothing he’d ever owned, meant as much to him as this clothing that now hung in deep folds from his skeletal frame.  The soft shell of it felt stronger than any armor.  Its protection sparked a nascent boldness in him, the courage to utter what his father would have considered a complaint.

“I’m so tired.”

Kylo knew he wasn’t referring to physical exhaustion, though that, too, emanated from his aura.

“I know, love.  I know.”


	7. Chapter 7

_Breathe._

_Straighten up.  You look like a slob._

_It's bad enough you can't even sit up on your own for more than ten minutes at a time._

_Lazy. You're just being lazy._

_Useless._

_Making excuses._

_Just breathe._

_You can do this._

_No, you_ will _do this. 'Can' has nothing to do with it._

Hux exhaled and tried to grip the soft edge of the bed.  His fingers twitched and defied his command.  Pain lanced through his wrists and up his arms.

He stared down at the mechanical monstrosity clasped to his thigh, where his left leg should have been.

And the half-droid foot and hand that remained on his right side.

A deep breath hissed between his gritted teeth.  He eased his weight onto the droid appendage first.  It felt... different. But, most importantly, it _felt_.

In any other situation, he'd have been fascinated by this revelation.  Now, he just felt sick.  Depleted.  And he hadn't even stood up yet.

Everyone was watching him: his mother, the nurses, the doctors, the guards outside.  Even the damned janitor had stopped his mopping to stare.

But Kylo…  Having Kylo present for this pitiful production stung worse than any other humiliation.

Kylo's eyes tracked his every move.  Hux couldn't feel the mystical connection that Kylo had with him, but somehow he _knew_ he was being sensed.  Kylo only wanted to help, but Hux couldn't help but feel insulted.  How weak and pathetic he must look to someone so strong.

Kylo had never abided weakness.  In anyone.  

_Why is he even still here?_

_Surely, he wants nothing more to do with me.  I'm a disgrace_.

Despite his husband's constant reassurances to the contrary, Hux still doubted.

 _If I don't do this, he'll leave me._   

Summoning all his strength, he pushed off the bed.

The pain in his hands and wrists flared.  In a moment of instinct he tried to shift his weight off of them too quickly.

He slipped. 

Hux cried out in alarm and anticipated agony as the ground rushed toward him.

Before he could hit the floor, Kylo caught him, suspending him in one of his enigmatic energy fields.  He eased Hux back onto the edge of the bed.  Hux swore under his breath and swatted away Kylo's hand when he reached out to him.

“Don’t touch me!”

"Hux,” Kylo whispered as he sat beside his husband, "There's no shame in needing help."

 _There is nothing_ but _shame in that,_ Hux's mind screamed.  He closed his eye to the stinging tears that welled up in the humiliation of his failure.  He could try to hide his embarrassment, but he couldn't quiet his ragged panting.

"I have to... I have— I _need_ to do this. Please."

"No one expects you to do this perfectly the very first time, love.  Not alone.  Hell, no one expects you to do this at all just yet. You have to work your way up to it.”

"I'm expected to stand trial in less than three weeks.  At the very least," he hissed, "I will do so on my own two— of my own volition. I'll not be floated in on a hoverchair like some incapacitated, lazy Hutt!"

"Alright," Kylo murmured, cognizant of treading on Hux's dignity.  He held out his hand again and offered his arm for Hux to lean on. "But… You shouldn’t be putting so much pressure on your hands yet.  Just let me help you up.  I promise I’ll stay out of your way.”

Hux glared at Kylo’s hand, but the real object of his frustration was his own stubbornness and pride.

Dr. Ek-Tal interrupted his thoughts with their clicks and hisses.  The sibilant sounds filtered through the translator box attached to the lapel of their lab coat.  “You need only to stand for a moment, General, if you must.  This is just a test of the fit and the feel for you.  It is not necessary to begin walking just yet.  We can perform the rest of the tests from the bed, if you prefer.”

_No. I do not prefer._

He’d been poked and prodded in that bed enough to last a lifetime, thank you very much.

“I’ll stand,” he grumbled, reaching out tentatively to place his arm over Kylo’s.  The warmth radiating from Kylo’s thick forearm and large hand lent him a sense of security and comfort, but it also served as a stark visual reminder of his own weakness.  His pale, bruised arm looked so thin and brittle next to Kylo’s, like a twig resting against a tree trunk. 

He took another deep breath and pushed off, leaning most of his weight into Kylo.  Kylo was right, for once: it was easier, keeping his wrist flat this time.  Putting too much stress on his hands had been a mistake.  His abdomen tightened as he lifted himself from the bed.  Muscles tensed and strained against his still tender ribs.  Determination, anger, and pain forced another sharp grunt from him, but then he was standing, wobbling, the effort far too taxing though he would never admit it. 

His legs trembled.

Kylo felt Hux shift the slightest bit more weight onto his arm and adjusted his resistance to meet his needs.

“There you go, love.  You’ve got it now!” Kylo whispered.

Hux panted and winced from the strain.

_Why is it so hard just to stand?_

_Pathetic._

_Unacceptable._

“See? You’re doing it!”

_I’m not a fracking child, Ren. Shut up!_

Hux would have snapped back, but he could barely catch his breath and remain upright at the same time.  And he knew he would regret it later if he loosed his frustrations on Kylo.  How the man had not left him already, he couldn’t comprehend.

Dr. Ek-Tal and their assistant leaned closer, running their scanners over the surface of his prosthetic and adjusting various wires and sensors as Hux swayed.

“How does that feel?”

“It’s…” Hux didn’t know what to say.  That it actually felt quite natural was a fact he did not care to admit.  He could feel the cold floor seeping up through the robotic toes, and the pressure of his weight on the sole of the foot.  Even the way the fiber cords moved as his weight shifted felt like real muscles adjusting to the tilt of his hips. 

“Surprisingly realistic?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice faltering both from exhaustion and disbelief.

“Wait until we’ve got the synth skin covering it!” The doctor sounded much more excited than Hux’s demeanor warranted. They were in their element; he couldn’t begrudge them that. “Then you’ll really be able to feel it.  We’ve mapped every nerve in the human leg, and you’ll even be able to adjust the sensitivity to things like heat, cold, pain, and pressure.  It’s really quite amazing!”

He wanted to be excited by the technology that could make this happen, but this was _his_ leg.  And yet, it wasn’t.  It was an unwanted, but necessary part of him now.  He had never imagined he would need a prosthetic appendage.  Tucked away inside the safety of the heavily shielded bridge, behind a massive, deadly fleet, he’d never put a single thought toward being injured, much less incapacitated in some way.  Permanently altered like this. He'd never been at ease with his physique. Missing parts of it didn't help his already tremulous self-image.

Could his mind really have made all this up? Was this just some way of compensating for, and denying, the horrors they were even now visiting upon him? All of this seemed so real.  Surely, his mind couldn’t have been made to conjure up a Verpine doctor.  At first, he’d flinched and nearly recoiled in horror, assuming the doctor was a Killik, but, despite the similarities between the two insectile races, Dr. Ek-Tal was not a member of that vile species.  Such a shock, however, surely would have broken him free of any sort of illusion or hallucination he’d been under.  He wanted to believe it, but fear silenced the hope that whispered to him.  Another, more sinister voice breathed fetid doubt into every notion of optimism that dared spark to life.

_You will never be free.  You are mine.  Forever.  Kylo can’t save you.  No one can._

Bile welled up in his throat, but he choked it back.

“Are you ok, _ah’stor_?” Lydia had come around to his blind side when he he’d been distracted.  He turned his head too quickly toward the sound of her voice and teetered to one side, but Kylo held onto him, supporting him both with his own strength and with the Force.  “Are you in pain?”

Hux didn’t quite know how to answer that.  When _wasn’t_ he in pain? He supposed she meant because of the prosthetic, so he shook his head.

She stepped closer and slid her arm under his, supporting him like Kylo but from the other side. 

“I—” He swallowed thickly and tried again. “I want to try walking.  Just a few steps.”

Kylo nodded, despite his obvious trepidation. “Ok, love.  We’ve got you.  Go ahead.”

It felt as though his body were locked in place, but he knew it was only fear that rooted him to the floor.  Fear of more pain.  Fear of falling again.  Fear of being humiliated in front of all of these people, but more so of disappointing himself.

His already lean muscles had atrophied so much in the past… weeks? Months? It felt like it had been another life in which he’d been whole and at least somewhat hale.

He took a deep breath and leaned into Kylo.

His leg lifted with surprisingly less force than he’d imagined it to require, given the heavy-looking metal framework of the device, causing him to wobble once more.  Kylo and Lydia held firm, though, making certain he remained upright and as dignified as possible.  He set the foot down and cautiously added pressure until he felt that he could put his full weight on it.  Already, his arms trembled from exhaustion.  His other foot bounced in hesitation and anticipation of the next step.  He didn’t know if he had enough strength left to move it without his knees giving out. 

 _How can I be so_ weak?

He’d only just begun sitting up on his own a few days prior.  Even then, he could only manage to stay upright for a few hours at a time, distracting himself from his pain by watching whatever inane HoloDramas the nurses followed while they changed his bandages and bedsheets; now that his vitals no longer needed constant monitoring, one of the panels had been tuned to HoloNet broadcasts.

Frustration built within him.  He growled and forced himself to push forward.  He managed to take another step, but the cost outweighed the triumph. 

The tremendous effort drained every ounce of power within him. His muscles slackened as though someone had flicked a switch and shut him down like a droid.  A sharp gasp and a mental cry for Kylo were all he had the strength for.

Kylo held to his promise and kept Hux supported with the Force.  “Ok, love.  That’s enough.”

“That was more than anyone could have asked for.  You did well, _ah’stor_.  I’m so proud of you,” Lydia added.

Hux blushed.  He didn’t deserve the compliment, but he felt bolstered by it nonetheless.  Very few people had ever been proud of him for anything.

Kylo floated him back to the bed and Lydia moved around to the other side to tuck him in.

Hux lay back and closed his eye, panting and fighting to keep more tears from falling.  He could feel the heat prickling his cheeks and his ears.  He’d failed.  Again.  And everyone was watching.

“You did well, love,” Kylo repeated.  “Just rest and let the doctors make whatever changes you need, and we can try again later, when you’re ready.”

He felt Kylo’s large, warm hand smooth his hair and leaned, imperceptibly, into the touch.

This was supposed to be getting easier.  They all said that.  But it wasn’t.

The pain was still there, as nauseating as ever, and he couldn’t believe how much effort it still took for him to move about, or how exhausting it was.

The mantra he’d clung to when this all began resurfaced with an ominous weight.

_This is going to get worse._


End file.
